


Prized Possessions and His Really Big Mouth

by mcgarrygirl78



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-09-17
Updated: 2007-09-17
Packaged: 2019-05-31 04:01:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15111386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mcgarrygirl78/pseuds/mcgarrygirl78
Summary: "I think you think you're making a point."





	Prized Possessions and His Really Big Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

“You should not be carrying that.”

Bruno took the box and put it on the bedroom floor. Margaret stood looking at him, her hands on her hips. He looked back at her.

“What? Why are you looking at me that way?”

She continued to look at him but said nothing. It unnerved the political strategist.

“Stop it.”

“What?”

“Stop looking at me as if I've done something horrible.”

“I can carry a box Bruno; I am not an invalid.”

“I know baby, I just…”

“What?”

“It’s a man thing. I don’t believe you incapable it’s just that you shouldn’t have to if I'm around.”

“You’ve been around for two weeks. The box was sitting in the living room the whole time.”

“I think you think you're making a point.” He replied.

Margaret laughed then and that made Bruno smile. She sat at the bottom of the bed they now shared, opening the box. She was going to go through some of the contents of his life; Bruno was about to let it happen. What the hell happened to him? He and Margaret had been together for almost a year. 

They settled into a busy but rather normal life together. They were parents of five-year-old Brian and seven-month-old Theadora. She worked for the Vice-President of the United States and he was a top-notch political strategist. This week their children were gone, Margaret’s sister Isabel took them to Colonial Williamsburg along with her husband Tim and their daughter Lucy. Margaret missed her babies but the peace and quiet was nice.

“What is all of this?” she asked.

“Odds and ends that I keep close. I think it might be about time for me to find a home for them.”

“Everything you own has a home right here with me.” 

“Yes ma'am.”

He kissed her softly stroking her face. Margaret pulled a picture from the box. It was Alphonse Gianelli, dressed in his Sunday best, flanked by his three sons.

“How old were you when this picture was taken?”

“Ten, I think, maybe nine.”

“You were adorable. Here,” she stood and went over to the shelf she installed on the wall over her loveseat. “Let’s put it here.”

“I like that.”

She sat back down again, going through some more. She found more photos, some not in frames. One was of her and it was a surprise. She did not remember posing for it. The sun was setting behind her; her red hair glowed. She was cradling Brian in her arms.

“When…?” she held it up.

“The day before Brian’s second birthday. We took him to see that circus in the park. God, you were so beautiful that day. You still are.”

“Stop it.”

“I'm serious and you know it.”

Margaret blushed as Bruno took the picture and put it on top of the dresser. Now he would see it every night as he undressed. In the box, she found his high school and college yearbooks, a crucifix that belonged to Grandmother Gianelli, a tattered copy of Fahrenheit 451, his degree from Tulane, rolled and tied with a ribbon, and a Queen Concert tee shirt.

“This needs to go in a frame.” She handed the degree to Bruno. “We can put it on the wall in the den. Can I have this?”

“My shirt? You want it?”

“I love Queen. How old is this shirt?”

“Um, I got it in 1980.” He replied. “Freddie Mercury wiped his sweaty face with it and threw it into the audience. I elbowed Gabe to get it.”

“Are you serious? You’ve kept it all this time?”

“Freddie Mercury wiped his sweaty face with it. Unfortunately, I have washed it but the sentiment is still there. When things are important to me Marnie, I like to keep them close.”

“Can I have the tee shirt?”

“It’s yours.”

Smiling, Margaret pulled off her powder pink v-neck and replaced it with the concert tee. She loved it and Bruno loved her glee. His things started to go around the room. An old award for Forensics Speaker of the Year went on the mantle; books went on the bookshelves.

“This room should be more yours.” She said.

“The bed, the top drawer, and the woman…it’s really all I need.”

“Bruno, I am being serious.”

She pouted and he smiled. Taking both of Margaret’s hands, he led her back to the bed. She found herself blushing as she laid her down. He kissed her lips softly, and then licked them with his tongue before kissing her mouth. Margaret wrapped her arms around his neck. She moaned softly into his mouth. Bruno took the tee shirt over her head and then removed his own. Margaret ran her hands down his chest; she loved his body.

“I love your hairy chest.” She said laughing.

“That sounds vaguely like a compliment.”

“It is.” she kissed him.

Bruno reached behind her, unhooking her bra. He cupped and stroked her breasts. Margaret arched her back. He licked the hard nipples, caressing them with his lips before he sucked them gently.

“Mmm, Bruno.”

She ran her fingers through his hair, writhing on the bed as he made love to her breast. Managing to get her jeans undone with one hand, Bruno smugly thought of himself as an expert in the art of undressing a woman. Margaret lifted her body as he slid them down her legs. With reluctance, she pulled Bruno from her breasts.

“Do you love me?” she asked.

“Of course I do.”

“How much?”

“Enough to give you my most beloved tee shirt without a second thought.”

“I love you too.”

They kissed again. Bruno smiled as he rolled over, pulling Margaret on top of him. When she grinded on him it made him moan.

“Baby, I need you to do me an itty bitty favor.”

“No, that’s a big, thick, hard favor.” Margaret replied.

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

She went down on him and Bruno relaxed deeper into the mattress. It was always the best with Margaret, which was strange since she was completely inexperienced when they were first together. Maybe that was why Bruno loved it so much…it was something she did just for him. Of course, Dan Sterling might have been on the receiving end of this kind of attention. He did not want to think about things like that.

“Oh Marnie, Marnie, baby that’s it. That’s what daddy likes.”

She hummed against his skin and Bruno groaned, his fingers tangling in her hair. He cried out with his release, relishing the feeling of building, tensing, and letting it all go. Margaret moved into his arms, relaxing as his tongue explored her mouth.

“Can I ask you something baby?” he murmured.

“Anything.”

“Did you ever, you know, with Dan Sterling?”

“Bruno!” she slapped his chest and moved away.

“What?”

“How could you ask me that?”

“What?”

“What?” she slapped his chest again. “What? You think it’s appropriate to ask me, while we’re making love, about my cock sucking activities with another man? You really think that’s alright?”

She got up from the bed, pulling the tee shirt over her head. Bruno sat on the bed stunned. Firstly, she said cock without giggling…a miracle. Secondly, he didn’t think she was going to get so upset. A yes or no would have sufficed. It was a perfectly innocent question.

“Marnie?”

“Don’t even talk to me right now!” she held up her hand. “You can be the world’s biggest asshole.”

“Marnie, I didn’t even…”

“I'm with you now and Dan has nothing to do with any of it. How are we ever going to move on if you want to worry about something that happened years ago? I'm not going to ask you, ever, about your conquests. What happened between Dan and I is none of your business. You want details; you want to know if I liked it? I love you Bruno, but that is going too far.”

“No, I don’t want to know. I'm sorry I even asked the damn question. It was stupid and I'm stupid. I am absolutely stupid.”

Margaret sighed. She sat on the edge of the bed. Bruno’s moves were tentative as he crawled down and slid his arms around her.

“Baby, I'm so sorry. I'm really sorry.”

Margaret nodded. He felt her body, at first rigid in his embrace, start to relax.

“I don’t want to fight with you. It makes my stomach hurt.”

“Shh, shh, we are not fighting.” Bruno’s hand moved under her tee shirt to rub her stomach. “I just asked a dumb question, you called me on it, and I apologized. We don’t have to fight.”

“Why do you care about that stuff? I don’t love him…I love you.”

“I know. Forgive me, please forgive me. I just stepped out of line. I ruined a perfectly lovely afternoon with my big mouth.”

He started to pull her back on the bed, slowly. It was not about having his way with her. Bruno wanted to hold her and remind himself how close he’d come to never having moments like this. Margaret curled in his arms; her breath warmed his chest. He was still half-naked and he wanted her to be. It wasn’t about sex…he loved to feel the warmth and comfort of her skin. Margaret did not fight him as he once again removed her tee shirt. She reached up to stroke his face, falling in love with his grey eyes all over again.

“Tell me you're sorry again.” She said.

“I am so sorry. Sometimes I open my mouth and things that are on my mind, proper or not so, come out. I don’t care about Dan Sterling, we’re together now. We will always be together.”

Margaret kissed him. Bruno laid her back before maneuvering out of his sweatpants. He stroked between her thighs; felt her skin quiver and then her whole body. Slipping a finger inside of her, he smiled when he felt her body open for him. He pulled out before she wanted; Margaret groaned.

“Make love to me Bruno. Don’t tease, just make love to me.”

She pulled him to her, moving her legs apart as he slid inside of her. Margaret arched her back, closing her eyes as she felt him fill her. Bruno stilled for a moment and told her to open them.

“I'm so lucky that you love me.” he said.

“And I truly do. I always have.”

Their movements started slow; Margaret covered his face with tender kisses as the delicious friction of their bodies sliding together made him moan. His stomach tightening caused him to move faster. Soon he was thrusting, loving the way Margaret shrieked at the quicker pace.

“Oh Marnie, ohhh baby, shit, oh God.”

She bit her lip as her hips thrust upward to meet his strokes. Bruno moved her legs further apart.

“Oh baby, tell me if I hurt you.”

“Never.” She shook her head. “Never Bruno, it feels so right.”

“Marnie! Marnie!”

He shouted as his climax overcame him. Margaret was not quite there; Bruno moved a hand between them and rubbed her clit until she purred.

“Oh yeah, there you go.” He kissed her before falling over on the mattress.

Margaret pulled the covers over her and for a while, there was silence. She could hear the birds singing and cars driving down the street. Bruno took her hand in his, kissing the palm.

“I want you to unpack like a normal person and integrate yourself fully into this house. It will be better to do it before the kids get back.”

“I will.” 

Bruno was not a full resident of the household yet. He still had a condo in Manhattan, ran his business from New York City, and frequently traveled. There were always politics somewhere. He had also been polling all over the country for the DNC. They seemed to forgive him for working the Vinick campaign though Bruno apologized to no one for his decision. Margaret moved into his arms, her head rested on his shoulder.

“I've already done the most important part, you know.” Bruno said.

“What do you mean?”

“The symbolic passing of the torch. The woman I love the most now owns my favorite item of clothing.”

“Why is it your favorite item of clothing?”

“I will tell you the whole story someday. I will like seeing you in it.”

Margaret kissed him. She stroked his face and saw the face of her son. Just like the picture of Bruno as a little boy with his own father.

“Even when I want to kill you, I still love you so much Bruno.”

“Well I'm glad to hear that because it is probably often that you want to kill me.”

“Oh yeah. C’mon, there are a few more boxes downstairs.”

“I was thinking, you know…” he tried to get her out of the sheet.

“Keep thinking.” She slipped out of his arms. “Start unpacking.”

***


End file.
